It stood on a round cutting board deeply grooved from more than half a century of use. Its natural, cloth-bound rind was dry and dark with age, but a wide wedge cut in its side revealed pale, yellow-orange flesh beneath — moist, yet crumbly, and flecked with white specks of protein crystals that mark a well-aged hard cheese.

Above the board was a cleaver suspended on an iron frame. With a sure hand and eye, my grandfather could turn wheel, bring down that cleaver in a quick, clean jerk and cut a wedge to within half an ounce of a customer’s order.

Wrapped in waxed butcher’s paper and tied with twine, it was at the perfect serving temperature by the time you got it home — ready for a quick mid-afternoon pickup, or for grating into MaMa’s legendary pimiento cheese or a savory macaroni pie.

This was, you will have already surmised, no ordinary cheese. Tasting it, one understood why such an essentially English cheese became as American as the apple pie over which it is sometimes melted.

Mind, it was good cheese to begin with, but my grandfather made sure it became a thing truly worth remembering. He bought it in 18-month-old wheels and then set it to age up to two years longer in the store’s cool, dry meat locker.

The result was a cheddar so sharp it crumbled slightly when cut and literally took the roof off your mouth. Yet it wasn’t sour sharp like so many of today’s cheddars, and as it melted creamily on the tongue, its bite was balanced by a surprisingly mellow finish.

That was the first cheddar I ever tasted, if not the first cheese; not surprisingly, its memory has set the standard for every cheese I’ve tasted since.

Well, my grandfather has been dead for more than 30 years, and cheddar — at least, the American kind — has since gone through some uneasy times. Most of us have had to settle for the dull orange blocks of blandness in the supermarket when the craving for cheese straws, pimiento cheese, and mac-and-cheese could not be ignored.

To play on a popular corporate ad, America was not only misspelling cheese, it was forgetting how it was supposed to taste.

Happily, the making and aging of fine cheddar in America was never altogether lost, and today, such makers as Cabot Creamery in Vermont are doing their best to preserve and promote the art. They’re even producing a cloth-bound wheel that stands up — nostalgia and all — to the cheese of my memory.

And that, you know, takes some doing.

A Cheddar Is Born

Founded by a coop of dairy farm families, Cabot Creamery has produced award-winning cheese for nearly three-quarters of a century, and, while much of its operation is modernized, the cheese is still hand made and finished under the watchful eye of a cheese master. Here is how they (and other fine artisanal cheddar makers) do it.

1. Immediately after pasteurization*, the hot milk is poured into heat-controlled vats and cooled to around 85 degrees F. If it is to be colored orange, annatto (a natural vegetable dye) is added to the milk.

2. Lactic acid starter is then stirred into the milk. It’s allowed to sit until it reaches optimum acidity, about 10 to 20 minutes.

3. Next the enzyme (rennet) is added, and the milk is heated to 100 degrees until it curds into a solid custard-like mass.

4. The curd is cut into small cubes and stirred to begin separating out the whey.

5. The entire mass is moved to a finishing table, where the whey and curd are fully separated. The curd is hand salted, and other flavorings, if used, are mixed in.

6. The cheese is aged for 2 to 24 months (or longer for premium sharp cheddars), during which it will lose moisture but gain its final character, sharpness, and color.

A young cheddar is naturally milk-white, like mozzarella. As it ages, it darkens to a creamy pale yellow; a really old, cloth-wrapped wheel of cheddar will age to a rich straw gold, very much the color of a good Parmigiano – actually, the color the annatto dye was originally intended to imitate.

* Though pasteurization is not necessary for cheddar, USDA regulations require that cheese made from un-pasteurized milk be aged at least 60 days, so Cabot now uses pasteurized milk for all its cheese in order to sell a few of them that are younger.

The Recipes

Fall seems like the perfect season for enjoying cheddar, whether you’re eating it right off the block or in savory cooking and baking. Here are some recipes adapted from Cabot Creamery’s Web site (www.cabotcheese.com). You know me—I can never leave well enough alone: the soup and pasta have both had a major Damon Lee overhaul.

Cheddar Butternut Squash Soup

Substantial enough to make a light supper when served with crusty bread and a salad, yet light enough to precede almost any poultry or pork main course at dinner.

Serves 4-6

1 small yellow onion, chopped fine

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 pounds butternut squash, peeled and cut into chunks

4 cups chicken or vegetable broth

1 large sprig fresh sage, or 1 teaspoon crumbled dried sage

1 cup sour cream

2 ounces sharp cheddar, grated (about ½ cup)

¼ teaspoon ground red pepper (cayenne)

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

12-16 chive stems, cut into 1-inch pieces

1. In a large saucepan, sauté onion in butter over medium heat until golden, about 5-6 minutes. Add squash and toss until heated through. Add broth and sage, bring to boil, reduce heat to medium low and simmer until squash is very tender, about 20 minutes.

2. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. Puree in batches in a blender.

3. Return puree to saucepan and place over medium-low heat. Stir in 2/3 cup sour cream, reserving about 1/3 cup for garnish, cheddar, and red pepper. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

4. Stir until heated through (do not allow to boil). Taste, adjust seasonings, and serve garnished with a dollop of sour cream and sprinkle of chives.

Note: for a snazzy fancy-restaurant presentation, put sour cream in a small squeeze bottle (or plastic zip bag with a small hole cut from one corner), and squeeze in drizzles over soup before sprinkling on chives.

1. Heat oil and butter in large sauté pan over medium heat. When hot, raise heat to medium high and add chicken. Sauté, tossing until golden and just barely cooked through. Do not overcook: chicken will cook further when reheated. Set aside.

2. Bring a large pot of water to boil, add a handful of salt and penne. Stir and cook until al dente, adding broccoli for last two minutes (when pasta is almost done).

2. Remove ½ cup of cooking water and set aside. Drain penne and broccoli in colander.